Kind To Be Cruel
by Simmering-Tofu
Summary: Poor Syaoran has a lot on his plate; he's gender-confused, jealous of his creepy relative and is on the losing side of a bet made with his mom. When an extremely paranoid Syaoran meets Sakura, he should have walked away and left her alone. SxS
1. The Darkest Hour is Just Before the Dawn

Kind to Be Cruel

Chapter One: The Darkest Hour is Just Before the Dawn

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_The moment I shook hands and 'sealed the deal', I knew I had made a huge mistake. All this just to avoid sparkling pink goop. Now, all I can think of is what the_ fuck_ was I thinking. My, my, better not let my precious fan-girls hear me swear. They might just cry themselves to sleep. And now I need them more than ever._

_I digress, but what the _hell_ was I thinking of when I made the deal with my mom… I mean the president of our company? _

_You see… I'm more of the calculative type. The type that weighs out all the pros and cons by drawing up a list. And yes I know, us youths are meant to be spontaneous so we can broaden our intellectual horizons._

_Well, look where that got me._

_Perhaps I should start off at a place so that it would all make sense. Let me begin at the cause of this whole incident…_

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_Flash!_

Syaoran struggled not to flinch as the light burnt his retinas. His face was caked in make-up… and dare he say it? Syaoran was wearing lip gloss. Not lip balm, lip _gloss_. Stuff that girls wore. Sure, the entertainment industry demanded their stars to be attractive and picture perfect all the time... especially on the cover of the magazine teenage girls would spend their precious pocket money on, but to Syaoran, they had stepped over the line. This was hurting his masculinity. Last time they made him wear clips in his hair he cried himself to sleep.

Shut up, real men cry.

Fundamentally, if he wasn't nit-picky about the details, Syaoran liked modelling. He didn't _mind_ girls buying life-sized posters of him and hanging them on their bedroom walls. He didn't mind that girls screamed his name. And of course, he didn't mind the free gift packages that would arrive on his doorstep each day from some creepy, but obviously _caring _fan. It bolstered his ego and he made a mint out of it too. But dear Syaoran was a sucker for minor details. Details such as how his stylist and manager booked him in for manicures and made him wear excessive amounts of make-up during photo-shoots. Last week he had a photo-shoot with several female models. The three girls did_ not _finish the tube of lip-gloss the make-up artist shared between them. Somehow, the make-up artist ensured that he would finish his own tube by himself. Okay, maybe he was overreacting but Syaoran saw the make-up artist squeeze so much more product on his lips than on theirs.

That was when Syaoran started feeling something was really, really wrong. Not only was he forced to wear things designed made for the fairer sex, it was also documented, printed onto billboards, magazines, posters… and to his eternal dismay immortalized on the internet.

"Right, Syaoran, we're done for the day. Good work!" the cameraman shouted to him.

Syaoran dropped his cheery smile and ripped the clips out of his silky chestnut hair, messing up his lovely 'Elvis puff'. He attempted to comb his hair so his fringe would stop standing up. It failed. Syaoran quickly fled to the changing room and locked himself in. He had an image to uphold! The piece that was currently giving him an aneurysm was a jaded colored pant-skirt that complimented his eye color. He was forced to admit—it did make his eyes "pop". But that was beside the point. Syaoran checked himself out in the mirror. His outfit had a very, very horrifying similarity to the skirt he saw his sister, Feimei, wear as she left for work yesterday morning. He glanced over his shoulder to see what he looked like from the back.

_Heh, at least my legs are nicer than Feimei's._

Syaoran frowned. Should he be proud of that? Should he? Though Syaoran was by no means muscle-_less_, he could not call himself muscular. Lean and toned were the more frequent words to describe his physique. Syaoran duly noted that was how he complimented girls' legs too. Our hero(ine) with his current gender crisis sighed heavily as though the world was upon his shoulders. He quickly switched back to his 'normal' clothes (a white T-shirt, black jeans and Chucks) and left the room. He accepted a wet-tissue from the make-up artist waiting outside and began scrubbing his face with it. He ignored her pleas to be gentle with his skin and made use of two more wet tissues before he stopped. Satisfied that he had rid himself of all traces of product from his face, he stormed over to the set and interrupted the conversation between his manager and the company president.

"I want to quit modelling." Syaoran scowled at his company president.

"What are you talking about, my dear?" Yelan, a woman in her mid-fities who was an icon for her charisma and elegance. She had aged beautifully and was renowned for being the head of one of the most affluent agencies in Japan. She raised a manicured eyebrow, but inwardly cackled at seeing her son's distress. Though most of his features had come from her, she could clearly his old man in his scowl.

They were both _soooo _cute when they were angry!

"I don't want to ever wear lip-gloss ever again. And no more clips…" Syaoran pointed to the skirt-like pants he was donning. "And no more skirts. Ever."

Yelan gave a slight laugh that to the less fairer sex, was often described as the sound of tinkling bells in the light summer breeze. "But those things are inevitable as a model!"

With this statement, Syaoran discovered what was epically wrong with what he was doing with his life. It had a fair bit of him turning into a she-man. But the main thing was that he had lost the real purpose which had ultimately led him to begin modelling in the first place.

"Mom! I'm a singer, not a model!" Syaoran protested.

"Dearie, please don't call me 'Mom' during your work hours! It's quite embarrassing!" Yelan cradled her delicate cheeks with her delicate hands. "I don't see what's wrong with modelling and singing. I mean, the publicity you're getting on those fashion magazines! I don't think we even need to advertise your future singles! Your crazy rabid fan-girls would know about them before the marketing team does."

"Yes, that's not the problem. The problem is—"

Yelan folded her arms together, clearly losing interest in his 'problem'.

Syaoran scowled. "I'm a singer. Singers _sing._"

There was a small caterpillar that had rested on his heart when the director of his second album noted and admired how his cheekbones were so accentuated he could cut his hand slapping Syaoran on his face. That had led to one photo shoot for a magazine. Then another… now, half a year later, Syaoran had done nothing but pose for photos, lose hair and his masculinity. That small caterpillar in his heart had formed a chrysalis and any moment now, a huge butterfly will unfurl its pink wings, be unleashed and flutter gaily with no worries in the world. Syaoran mentally slapped, no punched himself. Even his similes and ways to correct his thinking were turning effeminate.

"If you think about it, you're having so much more success at modelling than in singing. I'd be crazy to let you do what you want."

This was when Syaoran had a _spontaneous_ idea.

"What if one of my songs hit number one on the music charts?"

"The time limit will be two months." Yelan bartered as though she was in the free-markets of Hong Kong, trying to get a discount on a belt.

Syaoran deliberated for a whole minute before responding. "How about this, when I get my song in first place, I can take control of my schedule. But before that, I will accept all the work set out for me without any complain."

"That sounds fair with me. But I got another condition." Yelan smiled as though she had just spent the whole day shopping with someone else's credit card. "If one of your songs place number one on the music charts _and_ you get a full house in your next concert, I'll let you do what you want."

The president gave a sly smirk. It was as though she was expecting Syaoran to fail.

Syaoran curled his fingers into a tight fist, determined to win at whatever the cost. "Deal."

They both shook hands and wrote everything down clearly on paper with his manager as a witness.

If he could get full house in his concert and one of his songs as number one, he could immediately take (artistic) control of his schedule and Yelan would have no say in it. If he failed, then Yelan had full control over his schedule and jobs, and he would have to do _all _them with no right to complain. It sounded fair when Syaoran made the deal. He wasn't too worried, he was a good singer by his own right, his first single peaked at number three on the weekly music charts and though his concerts were never sold out, he was sure he could fill his concerts if he advertised personally. Syaroran thought he was doing quite well as a newcomer. In his first concert, he needed riot police on a stand-by… delirious fan-girls with the object of their fantasies and affections in their sight and almost immediate grasp was truly a force to be reckoned with. But the more he thought about, the clearer it came to him… every other song he released would start off at the top five-to- ten placing and dropped off the top ten list before the week was over.

Syaoran groaned, he was officially on the losing side of the bet. If he was a rat, he would have dived overboard and abandoned the sinking ship.

Too bad he _was_ the ship.

After he had literally written off the remainder of his life to his machinating mother—no doubt filling his calendar with a series of delightful jobs, the day got considerably worse when he bumped into his distant relative, Eriol. Syaoran liked to emphasize on the word 'distant'. In fact, if it was up to Syaoran, he would like to have no relation what-so-ever to him. A way to describe how Syaoran felt about Eriol was how one would feel about their family friend's son. The family friend who liked to point out how your naked baby photos were hanging in the entrance of their home, and how they used to bathe together. How they should do it again sometime_. _However, that wasn't the only thing that Syaoran was _uncomfortable_ with about Eriol. He wasn't that shallow! To Syaoran, the outside counted just as much as the inside. To millions of fans, mainly aged from thirteen to forty-three; he was the 'golden boy' with soft looks that was contrary to his strong vocals. But to Syaoran, Eriol looked really plain; the only feature that stuck out to him (and stopped him from denying he was distantly related to said male) was his blue hair that bore a striking resemblance to his mother's. Syaoran's stomach disagreed with his large, thinly framed, square glasses and his weak appearance that so contrasted his eccentric personality. Like a cherry on top of an ice-cream sunade, Syaoran was repulsed by Eriol's sudden burst into stardom. Although he had debuted only three months ago, every teenage girl knew his name. This was due to the huge and sudden craze for young and pale men that so reminded the teenage girls of supernatural creatures that did not burn, but _sparkled_ in the sun.

It wasn't Syaoran's fault he was the epitome of health with his sunny complexion!

Eriol had made full use of this image and turned into a major star overnight. Syaoran thought it was cheap and very unmanly of Eriol to deceive his female fans by calling to their nurturing and maternal sides. His first music video caused a tsunami of tears. Every girl and even some boys cried as they watched his frail hand drop off the side of a hospital bed. To Syaoran it made absolutely no sense. If he was a supernatural _immortal_ being; then why would he die from a strange disease? And wouldn't the doctors realize he was not human when they checked up on him? Nevertheless, when Eriol's normally pale skin looked like a sheet of white paper against the blue hospital gown, many fans expressed their concerns, stupidly believing that Eriol really did have a terminal disease. They had even sent flowers and get-well cards to his house. A week later, Eriol had made a 'dramatic recovery' and on his blog he posted that this was due to his fans' eternal love and support. The title of that post was "Love Cures All."

Syaoran shuddered at the thought of it.

The black lining to the rain cloud Eriol always brought onto Syaoran when he caught the sight of him was the fact that he was still so damn popular! After the supernatural craze had calmed and died over, Eriol continued to top the charts. In fact, he had never gotten off the charts since he first debuted! Syaoran for the life of him could not understand why. Sure, he had 'colorful' vocals, but compared to his own, it was like comparing a box of grade-school crayons to an artiste's set of oil paints. Anyone with a musical sense should be able to distinguish the quality of their songs! And if it was about talent, Syaoran _knew_ he had more. While Eriol's worked lacked creative control over his works as he relied heavily on composers, Syaoran wrote and composed all the lyrics and melodies to his songs.

Yet Eriol still came out on top! Syaoran could not comprehend why Eriol was so much more successful than he was. Syaoran snuck a peel at his distant relative and tried to view him objectively.

Nope, still nothing.

It was a mistake to look over at Eriol. The pale boy immediately caught Syaoran's eyes and waved to him. Syaoran gritted his teeth as Eriol nonchalantly strolled over to him. "Yo! Syaoran, how's it going?"

This really was horrible.

"Good morning." Syaoran attempted to sound as civil as possible. He was a good boy! Good boys greeted each other politely and did not try to stomp on another boy's feet.

"Do you have any plans for today?" Eriol inquired, seemingly bubbling with excitement. Oh, if his fans could see him now. Who did they think was sick and about to die? What a fraud! For love and justice, by the power of the moon; Syaoran really ought to give Eriol a good beating!

"Tonight, I'm going to appear on a music program to accept the newcomer's award! I'm so excited!"

Syaoran wondered why Eriol was talking to him… or why he came to the agency at all. He had no work today. (Syaoran checked specifically so he would not have to run into him during working hours.) Goodness, was it to brag about his accomplishments? What a horrid, horrid man!

"Good for you." Syaoran clapped Eriol on his shoulder a bit harder than what was deemed appropriate.

Eriol winced and rubbed his shoulder, "Will you be attending?"

As if he needed to ask. Syaoran had not released a song for a very long time due to all his modelling commitments. His latest song was currently something like one-hundred and sixteenth on the charts. And that was last week. Syaoran could not bear to look at the rankings this week.

It was unbelievable that Eriol's songs would all reach number one on the charts. However, there must be something that Syaoran was missing. Syaoran did not believe the ranking systems were rigged. Eriol was getting number one on the charts for some reason.

Syaoran left the agency incredibly frustrated but resolved to ask his sisters their honest opinion on the difference between Eriol and himself.

That night, Syaoran turned his television in his bedroom on and watched Eriol sing his new hit single. He thanked everyone who had helped him achieve the award of _Most Successful Artist of the Year_. Syaoran clutched angrily at his tub of ice-cream and shoved a large spoonful of the glorious goop into his mouth. He glared at the smiling Eriol, who was given the privilege to close the program.

"Lastly, I want to thank again those who gave me the opportunity to come out on top."

It was as if Eriol was sending him a secret message.

_Syaoran, you failed, I'm better than you. Now you'll have to wear lip-gloss forever. Muhahaha._

Syaoran pulled the spoon out of his mouth sulkily. He was a man… men do not sulk, and they do not get jealous over such petty things. Yes, he was definitely a bigger man than Eriol…

"SYAORAN! HAS THE MUSIC PROGRAM FINISHED? I'M COMING IN TO WATCH THE SATURDAY NIGHT MOVIE!"

Syaoran sighed, and shrilled across the hall to his sister. "YES, IT HAS. COME QUICKLY OR YOU'LL MISS THE OPENING!"

He heard hurried footsteps and was instantly squished between two of his siblings. "Oh, good, we haven't missed the part where the main guy meets the girl in the rain…"

That night, after three boxes of tissues, when the couple had finally met under the rain again after the trial of ten years in separation, Syaoran was alone in his bedroom again. He was so engrossed with the plot of the movie, he forgot to talk to his sisters about his problems. Syaoran pulled the covers over his shoulders and snuggled into his bed, thinking about the past day.

He wore copious amounts of lip-gloss, donned a pant-skirt which really was actually a skirt in his humble opinion, got jealous, sulked while eating ice-cream, watched a chick flick on a Saturday night, cried when the main couple ended up together… By jove, if he heard that as a recount of someone's day, he would have automatically assumed that person was female!

No, this was no good at all. He needed to do something drastic.

A change in the air… Syaoran rolled over to face the ceiling. He channelled all his manliness and suddenly it was clear to him.

The mountains… he would go the mountains. Syaoran made a decision to go hiking early next morning, it was the manly thing to do.

This was a crucial turning point in Syaoran's. Little did he know, that up in the mountains; stereotypically devoid of human civilization, he would find an extra factor to his equation. Something that would tip the scales of the bet completely to one side. Something that would drive him completely crazy for the next few months to come.

Just what was that extra factor? She, (not it) went by the name of Kinomoto Sakura.

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Syaoran decided to wake up early, a few hours before sun rise to avoid bumping into his sisters and mother who would bother him with pesky questions. Somehow he felt secretive and wanted to keep this little adventure all to himself. Besides, how was he supposed to explain to them that the mountains were calling for him? It was a man thing. He didn't expect his female family members to understand. Syaoran dressed himself in a light jacket and proper hiking boots before grabbing the keys to his car.

"Yes. I'm going to take a hike. Good sounds dwell in a sound mind, sound soul and sound body."

With those pearls of wisdom spat out to himself, Syaoran departed his house and drove off to the country-side. To be perfectly honest, Syaoran had no idea where he would go. He naturally assumed the calling of the mountains would be a total organic process and thus drove with no particular destination in mind. Luckily, the perimeter of Tomoeda was surrounded by mountains.

After a full half hour on the motorway, a grand set of mountains came into Syaoran's view. Satisfied that the mountains were of a formidable height, Syaoran chose them to be his hiking destination.

As Syaoran drove onto a gravel road, he realized that this was the most remote place he had ever been in his whole entire life. Syaoran had spent most of his years in the busy and overpopulated streets of Hong Kong before moving to the centre of Tomoeda which too, was crowded and full of skyscrapers. Syaoran inspected the scenery outside of his car window. There was a meadow and a stream. His eyes bulged, he thought those things only existed in history books or fairy tales!

Syaoran alighted his vehicle and advanced at a leisurely pace. He inhaled the nice, clean country air, admiring the natural world around him. Nearby, he spotted a brown bird flying from one large shrub to another.

Crickets hummed to an incomprehensible tune.

The stream gurgled merrily and the edges of the bank was rich with moss of an immodest green. Syaoran briefly wondered if it was safe to drink the water flowing from the streams. He spotted a floating diaper and quickly decided not to. Soon, the path Syaoran was trekking on blurred as ferns leaped across its boundaries. He carefully pushed the vegetation back, not wanting to disturb the natural order. It was still dark but Syaoran could see his path marked by the silver under-sides of fallen ferns. Syaoran felt like he was walking on a moonbeam. Judging from the gradient of his hiking route, he wouldn't be surprised if he did reach the moon. Syaoran took a tentative sniff at his surroundings and was surprised to find that the smell of the sweet, flowery undergrowth smell which seemed to cling to the air was very appealing to him. Taking a walk into nature was the correct decision. He would be revitalized and he would work his ass off to compose an awesome song which will number one...

Two hours later, Syaoran's mood had deflated like a neglected birthday balloon. The terrain was so steep! His calves ached and he was beginning to feel the effects of waking up at four in the morning without drinking coffee. It was as if someone had ran him over with a supermarket trolley. And then proceeded to drop bags of flour onto his head.

Just as his legs were about to explode in punishment for defying gravity, Syaoran reached the top. The ground was level and he was sure he was looking over a large part of Tomoeda. It was still dark, the sun had not yet risen and everything was at peace. There was a comfortable hush of nature around him, he walked past large tree trunks, a small house and followed a dirt path. It lead him to a wooden bench that faced the glorious view of Tomoeda. Syaoran gave his feet a rest on the bench. From his position, he could descry the skyscraper of his agency. His legs cried with relief. Syaoran loosened the laces of his hiking boots and wiggled his feet slightly out of them. He looked up at the now lightening sky. On his left, the dark shadows of the night ever-so-slowly eroded away by a faint tint of beige. The stars winked at him and whispered good-bye as the sun peeked over the horizon.

"How insignificant am I." He mused. "Said the stars." He added immediately afterwards with an evil grin on his face. Syaoran gave a small chuckle, laughing at his own joke. Just as his mood was increasing again, it immediately died when he felt the familiar vibration of his phone against his jacket pocket. Syaoran face snapped into a scowl. How was it that he was unable to get reception in his room but he could get three bars full on top of a mountain which was seemingly away from everything?! Angrily, he checked the message on his phone.

_10am today. Editorial shoot for Tomoeda's leading brand of cosmetics._

Syaoran wanted to jump off a cliff. Now that was a _spontaneous_ idea!

Maybe it was fate, in a split second, Syaoran next to the guard railing which, might he add, was fairly easy to climb over. Syaoran flipped one leg over. Suddenly his foot was dangling off the edge of a precipice.

"If I am to die, let me die as a man!" he cried out to the large chasm. "My only regret would be that I won't live to see the day when I become extremely famous."

Suddenly Syaoran was crying. "This really sucks!" He kicked his boot free from his foot and followed its path down the mountain-side. If he fell asleep right here, right now; he would perchance to dream. A dream where he was truly recognized for what he was and not forced to wear lip-gloss or make-up. Where he didn't have to get his eyebrows plucked on a monthly basis. Maybe he would wake up from this nightmare.

"Good-bye, bitter world!"

Our dear Syaoran always had a flair for the _dramatique!_

Just as he was about to swing his other leg over and make another _spontaneous_ decision to jump off the face of a cliff, golden notes that transcended the heavens with vibrato so strong it resembled roaring thunder, assaulted his ear.

Syaoran froze, completely paralyzed. How could he describe the timbre? If for example, his heart was a black cloud, her voice was like lightning. An ephemeral streak of light in a dark abyss, a glint of hope in a world of despair.

Syaoran swivelled his head around to see where the source of this magical sound was coming from. He gripped the railing tightly, and swung his legs back to touch solid ground. He _had_ to find out where-_who_ that sound was coming from. He swung his other leg and safely got off the railing. The sun had fully risen.

Syaoran took one step forward.

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**TBC.**

Looking for a beta-reader. If you read until the end of this chapter and you're interested in helping me out, please give me a PM. I need someone with incredibly strong grammar skills to balance out my horrible ones.


	2. New Years

Kind to Be Cruel

Chapter Two: New Years

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_Have you heard of the shower theory? You sound the best in the shower. While of course there is heaps to do with good resonance and all that jazz we learn in physics which I don't pay attention to, (physics is like real life math. And math… bleh!) I think it's more to do with your mindset. In the shower, with the water running over your head, you don't give a damn to who is listening to you._

_Unless you have a brother who records you and sends it to all your friends._

_Stupid Touya. Just you wait, I'm going to get you back for that!_

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Let it be said that Kinomoto Sakura was _not_ an early riser. Out of the 190 school days she was legally obliged to attend, even with Sakura's poor math skills she could calculate that she was late 100% of the time. Her name was permanently written on the detention clipboard as punishment for being late to school.

So why was Sakura awake at 5am? Well, it was quite easy to decipher. Sakura would never be able to _wake up_ at five. Therefore she must have stayed up all night. Even for internet junkies, staying up to 5am is quite extreme. But desperate times called for desperate measures. Today, after a short deliberation (if she was Hamlet, the play would be one scene long) Sakura had decided to exact her revenge on her brother, Touya for embarrassing her in front of her friends.

To get to work on time in the city, Touya had to wake at around 5am each day. It was hard and he would have definitely left their remote dwelling if it weren't for his father's insistence of staying in the desolate countryside. His father claimed that their mother loved this house and the view it had to offer. They had even named their second child after the trees that were next to the house! Touya vaguely remembered his mother joking that a million dollars would not suffice as a value for the view they were granted each morning.

Touya had just woken up and was heading towards the kitchen. He found the egg omelet in the refrigerator that Sakura had made in advance the previous night before and started boiling his coffee.

Half-asleep, Touya micro-waved his meal and poured himself some coffee, putting milk and large amounts of sugar in automatically.

Sakura stayed close behind Touya, not wanting to miss his reaction.

Touya grabbed a spoonful of omelet, completely unsuspicious.

_Crunch, crunch._

Utterly bamboozled, Touya realized his meal was filled with egg-shells. Annoyed at this revelation, he quickly spat it out and took a tentative sip of his coffee.

His face contorted and he quickly spat that out too.

"SA-KU-RA!" he bellowed.

Sakura burst into a fit of laughter, unable to contain herself any more. "The egg shells were totally forgivable. But for you to not notice you were adding salt instead of sugar into your coffee—your face. CLASSIC!"

The brother tackled his younger sister to the ground, she screamed and yelped as she struggled to get free. Touya sat on her face and passed gas. Satisfied with his revenge for her revenge on him, he let Sakura loose.

Sakura grimaced. "You are so disgusting."

Touya gave his little sister a sly grin. "For what? Farting in your face?"

Touya thought he had won the round when Sakura went silent. Then he realized something was amiss.

"What are you doing?" He looked over his sister's shoulder and realized she was going through his phone. Touya tried to pry the phone off her hands but she was too quick. She leapt to her feet and dashed towards the front door.

"I need reception… I'm sending a lovely voice message to your girlfriend."

"You little monster, give my phone back!" Touya dashed after her.

"_Hey, __catch you, catch you, catch me, catch me!_" Sakura sang along to a popular song she kept hearing on the radio.

"SA-KU-RA!"

Sakura ran out of the front door, not bothering to put a pair of shoes on. She could feel the cold morning dew on her toes. She continued to run, holding up Touya's cell-phone high above her head as though she was the torch-bearer for the Olympics.

She suddenly skidded to a halt, a man was standing and leaning over the railing dangerously. In a flash, she realized just what the man would be doing.

"Don't do it!" Sakura yelped, dropping Touya's phone and rushing at the stranger.

There was only one reason someone would come hiking up to the mountains at this time of the day.

Suicide, over a broken heart.

Sakura clung to the stranger's waist. "You'll find someone else who'll love you! Don't do it! You can write a break-up song and sell millions for it!" Her pleas were as quick and loud as a machine gun. "Please don't jump, Touya will throw me over to check whether you're dead or alive!"

"Uh…"

Sakura looked up, her emerald eyes meeting with large amber ones.

"I'm not trying to jump… well I _was..._ but then I decided against it. Now I'm trying to find my shoe." Syaoran finished the sentence lamely.

"Sakura! If she breaks up with me, I will have your head… What the fuck are you doing?"

Touya glowered at the sight that beheld him. And no, it wasn't the view of the sunrise or Tomoeda that made his language dirty.

It was the sight of his (monstrous) beloved, baby sister wrapping her arms around a strange man!

"What are you doing with my sister?"

Sakura and Syaoran quickly jumped apart.

"Stupid Touya," Sakura stuck her tongue out. "I'm just being kind and helping a stranger find his shoe. It's what a _decent_ person would do."

Syaoran smiled sheepishly.

"Now, why would his shoe suddenly fly off into the sunrise?" Touya eyed Syaoran suspiciously.

Syaoran wondered if he should tell the truth. But judging from the temper of "stupid Touya" he decided against it. "I was practicing my martial arts."

Touya raised an eyebrow to show his disbelief. Sakura giggled.

"Like this." Syaoran did a flashy kick. He thanked his lucky stars that he came from a family whose mother loved watching martial arts films and had decided to send her son to a martial arts school to become the next Bruce Lee. While he wasn't Bruce Lee in terms of fighting skill and physique, he could do a mean impression of his "hai-yahs!"

Touya was completely unconvinced, he had an uncanny eye for small detail—such as how Syaoran did not use his shoeless leg to kick, that was obviously the leg he preferred to kick with— but he stayed silent. As for Sakura, she applauded the impromptu martial arts display.

"Brat, if your shoe is down there, you'll never get it back. Might as well give up."

Syaoran looked suitably embarrassed. "I'll have to trek an hour to get down to my car. Could I borrow..."

"No." Touya scowled.

"Don't be stupid, Touya!" Sakura slapped her brother on his back. "Of course you may borrow some sort of footwear from us, but you'll have to give them back. And Touya will _take _you back to where your car is."

"Hey! When did I say that—"

"I'm not going to cook breakfast for you if you don't!" Sakura threatened. Touya's stomach growled in defeat.

"Come this way."

Syaoran watched as Sakura skipped happily in front of him, she wiped her feet on the welcome mat in front of the house and stepped inside. Beside him, he heard Touya grumble about dirty feet.

"Here you go." Touya threw Syaoran a pair of slippers. They were pink, fluffy and had bunnies on them. "These are all I can spare." Touya grinned evilly. "Take good care of them. They're my father's."

Touya led Syaoran to the back of the house. Sirens went off in Syaoran's head. This was where people get murdered… morbid thoughts ran through his mind when he was jolted back into reality by the cold spherical object Touya had thrown at him.

"Make sure you put that on. Wouldn't want your pretty head getting done in by a branch."

Syaoran _knew_ that if anything was going to "do him in" it was going to be that man's fist. He just sensed it.

Call it fe_male_ intuition.

"Aren't you going to get on?" Touya was already seated on his motorbike. He patted the empty space behind him. Syaoran obediently mounted the vehicle.

"Hold on tight."

Syaoran awkwardly put his arms around Touya's torso.

"Are you a girl or something? Hold tighter, or I swear; you're going to fall off."

Descending down the hill, Syaoran wondered which was the most girly thing about what he did today.

Was it wearing pink bunny slippers? Was it hugging a guy's torso _and_ feeling a sense of safety from it? Or was it his high-pitched squeaks as they navigated the rough terrain of the mountain?

When the pair had finally reached the car, Syaoran felt as though he had shaved ten years off his life.

"Do… you … ride that… down the mountain… _everyday?_" Syaoran was still stuttering from the shock.

Touya shrugged. "Your reactions were more extreme than Sakura when she was in middle school."

_Sakura… yes, that's right._

"Speaking of your sister…" Syaoran started hesitatingly.

"What?" Touya's tone instantly hardened.

"C-Can she sing…?" Syaoran asked feebly.

Touya scowled heavily and took Syaoran's helmet away from him. "It's really none of your business."

"So she can?" Syaoran pressed on. It _was _her. She was the one he had heard.

"Shut up." Touya glared at Syaoran. "Don't talk to my sister, in fact, don't come back again. You can keep those."

Touya pointed at the pink bunny slippers Syaoran had on his feet. He turned his motorcycle back towards the mountain and sped away.

Frowning, Syaoran fumbled for his car keys and eventually managed to open the door to the driver's seat.

Exhausted, he leaned forward, his face pressed against the steering wheel. Not only was her voice something he had never heard before… the song she sang.

It was his own.

Maybe it was by some morbid fate or connection, that was one of the lines in the chorus of his first single. The one that he had been oh-so-proud about… the one that had gotten him his highest ranking in the music charts.

Though it was just that one line, Syaoran heard a lot of things.

Her pitch was funny, and she didn't realize the song was in syncopation… it was hard for him to accept, it hurt his pride… but her one line had far surpassed his version.

It was blatantly obvious as to why his songs weren't selling. Syaoran wondered why nobody told him sooner… why he himself didn't notice.

It was _it_. '_It'_ was hard to describe. (Not the clown.) _'It' _was the exact opposite of how he was singing. Syaoran had grown up in a family where his sisters majored in violin, viola and cello respectively; so the word 'technique' was part of his daily life. But for him, who concentrated so much on 'techniques', he had entirely missed _it._

If Sakura's voice was the rainbow, his was a laser light. Straight laced. Monochromatic. Sure, he had depth and changes in texture in his voice but those were all contrived.

What he lacked was the careless and recklessness Sakura seemed to have. Somewhere between acquiring all those techniques, he had lost the soul of his voice. And it was the soul of one's voice that separated one from another.

With a flash, Syaoran realized if someone discovered her and got her to release a song within the next one hundred days, his chances of winning would become zero.

He would love to hear her sing. But he didn't want to lose this bet. He wanted to win. And to win, he'd have to make sure she stayed out of the way. It wasn't going to be for her life, it was just the next one hundred days! There was his dilemma: should he follow what was the best for him and prevent Sakura from starting a singing career _or_ do good for the music industry and his mother's talent agency and scout her?

Syaoran mentally drew a list in his head, weighing up the advantages and disadvantages. After an intense moment of deliberation, he came to his answer.

If Hamlet was only "cruel to be kind." Where he did bad things for the good of his mother, Syaoran was going to be "kind to be cruel." Syaoran would be nice to Sakura for her "bad"-being. He would make it up to her. And this was only until he won his freedom back.

He would have to keep tabs on her. Syaoran thought hard. He would go back and return those slippers and somehow establish a connection. He eyed the clock in his car.

But no, not today. He had a photo-shoot to get to. True to his word, he would make sure he showed up to all his jobs on time without any complaints.

On his way back to the city, Syaoran was attempting to think logically about how and why he was going to act "kind to be cruel" to Sakura. Technically, she had been left alone for _x_ many years of her life, what made it likely that someone would recognize her talent and scout her in the next one hundred days?

But his paranoid self had a niggling feeling that something big was going to change her entire course of life very soon and he would never forgive himself if he hadn't been there to _prevent_ it.

So… he wasn't going to do anything drastic. He was just going to monitor her for a while. At regular intervals.

Like everyday…

* * *

When Syaoran reached his house, he planned to leave the bunny slippers in his car discreetly and sneak back into the house before anyone had noticed his little morning trip. However, this was not to be. For some unlucky reason, his sisters were all waiting for him inside his bedroom. Imagine his awkwardness as they caught him scaling the drainpipe with his bare feet!

"We are totally not going to ask." The eldest sister flipped her long hair off her shoulders. "You're just going to explain everything!"

"Yeah, we panicked when you were missing in the house. We were wondering where you were… but now I guess the mystery's solved!" the middle sister gave Syaoran a wink.

"Where are your shoes? Did you leave them at her place?" the youngest sister inquired.

"Like, oh my gosh! Mom is totally going to freak when she finds out you've been hiding a girl… not to mention having late night escapades with her!"

Syaoran turned bright red, an effect that always seemed to occur when his sister were slandering him. It was horrible because it only made him look guilty.

"What's her name? Is she pretty? Bring her over! Are we going to have nieces and nephews to play with soon?"

"I don't have a girlfriend!" Syaoran rushed out of his bedroom, unable to handle his three sisters ganging up on him.

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks, if his mother got a wind of this completely baseless rumor, she would send intense surveillance on him. That would potentially ruin the 'monitoring' he had to do.

He ran back into the room, feeling as though he was Perseus off to face the three gorgons.

"Don't tell mom."

His sister's squealed at his sort of confession.

"If you do… I'll…"

"Don't tell me what?"

Syaoran felt as if he was in a horror show and he was the victim where the monster had just dribbled on his shoulder. Not that his mother was a monster… anyway… Syaoran slowly turned around.

Yelan had her arms folded across her chest.

"Nothing!" his three sisters chimed in unison.

"Hm…" Yelan turned around and retreated… for now.

"Thanks guys." Syaoran managed to gasp. He wondered if he really ought to thank them, since they were the ones who brought this mess up in the first place. After negotiating and promising that he would try to get _all_ the make-up samples in the photo-shoot he was going to today, Syaoran let out a sigh of relief. They were going to keep the existence of his supposed girlfriend secret.

So far so good. Nothing disastrously bad had happened yet.

* * *

Syaoran arrived at the scene of the photo-shoot and was most horridly surprised at the fact that he would be having the photo-shoot with Eriol. He discovered this in the strangest way possible, too…

Eriol crept up behind Syaoran and took a deep sniff. "Mmmn, you smell of strawberries…"

Syaoran spun around in shock to see the boy with the cadaverous complexion extremely close to him.

"You smell kind of woody too… is this a new cologne you're wearing. Sakura?"

_Sakura. Sa-ku-ra… SA-KU-RA…_

Syaoran panicked, his emotions were as clear as a window on his face. "Hur-hur-hur. I don't know who you're talking about." he stuttered.

Eriol raised an eyebrow and leaned close to Syaoran. "It's a who?"

_How does he know?! Could it be that the rumors on the internet are true? He really is a sparkling supernatural being that has the power to read other people's minds?!_

Syaoran turned his back on Eriol and quickly walked to the changing room. 'The situation was avoided but badly handled.' Syaoran thought to himself, he would need to prepare a repertoire of responses for different situations.

The evil Syaoran did not have a knack of thinking on his feet while pressured.

Eriol flashed his pearly whites. 'Interesting.' He thought.

After several hours, Syaoran finished the photo-shoot with Eriol with a considerably lower self-esteem. Syaoran felt as though he had been completely defeated.

Oh woe is me, my name is frailty!

He dramatically went off-site and headed towards his car. Unbeknownst to our main character, he was being carefully observed. There was a fine line between observing and stalking. And that was getting caught. And right now Mr. Hiiragizawa was observing.

As swift as the wind, as fierce as fire, and as unbeatable as a mountain, Eriol tailed Syaoran's trail. A long time later, in a place where there was hardly any reception, Syaoran seemingly arrived to his destination. Hiding behind a thick _sakura_ tree trunk (its scent triggered his curiosity into coming here) he spied on his cousin.

Syaoran walked purposefully towards a small house. As if there was a force field surrounding the perimeter of the dwelling, Syaoran suddenly stopped. Then he took one step forward and three steps back.

Eriol's brow was furrowed with confusion. What was Syaoran doing? Eriol could tell that Syaoran was having an internal debate inside his head. He always took too long to think and weigh up all the options. From the look of Syaoran's face, Eriol promptly made the decision for him. Picking up a small pebble, Eriol lobbed it lightly. It hit the gutter with a satisfying "thunk."

It was loud enough for the people inside to check what was going on, but soft enough so that it was inaudible to Syaoran, who was completely immersed in his decision making.

A few seconds later, Eriol heard the door open, he made himself as small as possible and adjusted his position to get a clear view of what was going on…

Syaoran stared at Sakura in dumb shock. It was as if she had ESP! How did she know that he was there? Then perhaps she had read his mind and knew what were all his plans?

Desperate, Syaoran hurriedly asked Sakura, "Do you have any interest in becoming a star?"

"No, I don't have any interest in turning into an extraterrestrial being." Sakura replied immediately.

_What on earth does she think I'm talking about? _Syaoran felt extremely frustrated and suddenly felt the urge to pull his hair.

"Oh, so this is what you've been hiding!"

Now, Syaoran felt the urge to scream… surprise, surprise! Eriol, of ashen complexion had walked up right behind him without his noticing. He was so close to Syaoran he was practically breathing into his hair.

"Incredible!" he whispered, sending chills down Syaoran's spine. "Are you scouting her to be a model? She is indeed a fragile and exquisite beauty that I thought no longer existed in this world!" Eriol moved past Syaoran and took up Sakura's hand, gushing and fawning over her.

"Oh! My mom was a model!" Sakura continued shaking Eriol's hand. Her cheeks were turning pastel pink. Was it just to Syaoran? Sakura seemed to have no qualms talking to Eriol! So why was she so reserved with him?

"But Sakura will not go anywhere near the entertainment industry." Touya suddenly appeared, a looming figure behind his sister. "The number of annoying little brats has grown. Sakura, you seem to have a knack of attracting them! Go do something beneficial to society. Feed and clothe the poor, bake cookies or something."

"Hello," Eriol extended his out-stretched hand. "Sorry to intrude into your mundane everyday life. I am not here for your sister, my purpose for coming here is to retrieve my delightful Syaoran. He's got one or two screws loose in his head, you see."

Eriol patted Syaoran on the head. Syaoran scowled viciously. Touya raised an eyebrow, _"my delightful Syaoran,"_ he said. So the two were on the other team. He dropped his guard down a little bit. They weren't after Sakura. Touya felt a tinge of empathy to Eriol, he too, was doing his best to take care of the person he cared for. He could see the affection Eriol held for Syaoran, his insults were just like how he mocked Sakura! He turned his attention back to Eriol's words.

"But coming here, it was fate. I overheard their conversation and realized that Sakura and I are exactly the same. I answered the same way when I was being scouted. Speaking of which, do you have any idea who I am?"

"Eriol!" Sakura burst out, red in the face. "I'm a huge fan of yours! I've listened to every single song you've released."

I might have downloaded at least half of them though. Sakura added guiltily in her head. She, however, did not fail to notice Syaoran's look of horror.

_She's an Eriol fan girl! What did they call themselves? Loire?_

Syaoran gasped as he realized. His eyes wide. _Isn't that just Eriol backwards?!_

"That's so stupid!" Syaoran exclaimed out loud.

Sakura looked at him square into his eyes, Syaoran could feel the fury of all Loire fangirls burning into his soul.

"N-No… I didn't mean that…"

Sakura made a noise of disdain and ignored him, giving her undivided attention to Eriol. It was as if she had decided to erase his existence.

Women sure are scary!

Eriol seemed sadistically amused by this outcome. "Let's be friends!" Eriol quickly stole Sakura's cell-phone. With practiced ease, he entered his own number into her phone and called himself. "Would you be interested in accompanying me to a store near the station? They have the best crepes there!"

Sakura blushed and giggled prettily. "But wouldn't that cause a scandal? Meeting one girl out in the public."

Eriol waved his hands as though he was swatting Sakura's worries away. "Don't worry, I'll come in disguise. Plus!" Eriol gave his incredible smile that had stolen the hearts of women in the whole of Japan. "We won't be doing anything we can't let anybody else see."

Everything was happening too fast for poor Syaoran to comprehend completely. In the time less than he spent preparing his wheat-grass morning shake, Eriol had met the girl, traded numbers and organized a date. If there was one thing Syaoran could salute to, it was Eriol's quick decision making skills. Boy was he efficient!

_Is this how gamers feel when someone 'kill-steals?'_

Syaoran decided to go home later and brainstorm how to make quick decisions like Eriol in the future.

And so it came to be, Syaoran failed to make a favorable impression to the girl he was trying to get hold of and was out-shined and usurped by his creepy cousin who had a habit of wearing pink ascots.

* * *

Syaoran was in a bit of a dilemma. How could he possibly get Sakura away from Eriol? He could see it in her eyes, she was an ultimate fan-girl. Syaoran pressed the button to close the elevator door.

"Wait for me!" an awfully familiar voice shouted, Syaoran desperately pressed the 'shut' button. But it was too late, Eriol's thin hand slipped through the closing doors. _Ping__!_ The doors were open again.

"Good morning, sunshine! Isn't today a glorious day?" Eriol chirped. "Today is the _μshik __Countdown_! I will be hosting the program under the open sky! I just can't wait!"

The _μshik __Countdown _was an annual music show hosted on New Year's eve, broadcasted nation-wide on radio and television. All the way up until the countdown, artists and groups that had done well and were popular that particular year would perform a few songs. The show ends slightly after the countdown and fireworks.

Eriol being pronounced the _New Artist_ of the year, was given the privilege to host the program along with a girl-group idol, Tomoyo.

Syaoran's heart burnt with jealousy, he had really wanted to perform on the show, it was one of his goals when he first debuted.

"Do your best," Syaoran blessed Eriol half-heartedly.

"Oh, I will!" Eriol beamed. "After the event I will be rushing off to have a little date with Sakura. We're meeting at the crepe shop in the town center I've always been raving about on my blog!"

The elevator door bell rang and the doors opened. Syaoran quickly hopped out, he did not want to hear Eriol gloat anymore.

"Have a nice day," Eriol sang out to him.

* * *

Syaoran tightened his bow-tie as his stylist slicked his hair to the side. Though he wasn't participating in the program, being the son of the president of a major record company had its perks. He would sit with all the sponsors and their family. Seated in a place with an incredible view of the stage, Syaoran had pretty much nothing to complain about.

Throughout the program, his eyes were wide as the popular groups and artists displayed their talents (or there lack of) on the stage. Syaoran's keen eyes assessed the girls on the stage and he briefly wondered how many had bought their beauty. Like every netizen, Syaoran loved reading about plastic surgery scandals!

_10…_

_9…_

_8…_

_7…_

_6…__  
__5…_  
_4…_  
_3…_  
_2…_  
_1…_

Happy new year!

Fireworks exploded, littering the skyline with synthetic and transient lights. Through the haze of light pollution, Syaoran could descry the smoky wisps diffusing into the atmosphere. Different shapes and colors flitted past Syaoran's eyes, in the festivities, Syaoran's resolve was rejuvenated. He could do this! This year, he would succeed in becoming popular.

No, by the end of this year, Syaoran decided that he would become a household name.

After the countdown and a wide long-shot of celebrities hugging and kissing each other, the cameramen began packing up their gear. One by one the celebrities, exhausted by the glitz and glamour, dropped their 100-watt smiles.

"Party at my place!" Tomoyo shouted. Her personality and energy was the same, on-and-off stage. She was the main vocalist in the girl group, TMD48.

Coming into the music scene about two years back, the group of 48 young girls shook and changed the whole music scene of Japan. They had quickly become a spectacular phenomenon spurning many more side groups, some members who 'graduated' had careers of reasonable success.

Personally, Syaoran didn't really think having 48 members in one group was a good idea, the dancing would just get messy, and having a large number of people would encourage ugly jealousy of the ones who shined more brightly.

Tomoyo, however, seemed to be above all that. Despite being first in the popularity rankings with the number of votes almost doubling second place, everyone seemed to like her. She was naturally beautiful with long jet black hair and porcelain skin, she was definitely the queen of her group.

Presently, the girl was in extremely short shorts with a pair of black unadorned heels, it created the illusion of longer legs. Syaoran eyed Tomoyo's lean and toned legs appreciatively and applauded her coordinator's sense.

Hm… now where had he heard that phrase from?

"I'd be glad to." Linking arms with the goddess of Tomoeda, Eriol guided Tomoyo to the exit. Syaoran was surprised at the audacity of the pair, it was as if they thought they were bullet-proof to scandals! Syaoran knew many die-hard Tomoyo and Eriol fans would become their number one haters if they knew they had been 'betrayed' by their idols. Wouldn't their popularity take a huge hit?

Syaoran shook his head, while he wouldn't mind if his distantly-related cousin fell off his high perch, it would be a shame to see Tomoyo, a vocalist he actually admired, fall from grace.

Speaking of audacity… Syaoran's eyes widened as he realized that Eriol was going to Tomoyo's after party and not to meet Sakura!

Syaoran sighed and took out his phone. With a few short key words in a search engine, he successfully found Eriol's blog. Who, he would like to emphasize, was a man with no integrity.

Sure enough, Syaoran found the name and address of the crepe store Sakura and Eriol planned to meet at.

Then Syaoran slinked past all the back-stage crew and entered a walk-in wardrobe. He eyed at the clothes rack in the room, and took items which he thought might fit him.

He had always loved dressing up. Not in anything frilly, of course! He liked the idea of having an alter ego. A double identity. Kind of like a super hero. Yes, that was it. Syaoran picked up a pair of fake glasses with black rims. Obviously, as it served as a fashion accessory, the previous owner had taken them off and promptly forgotten its existence.

It was abandoned, Syaoran couldn't leave it behind to face its terrible fate. Had he not interfered and taken the glasses to use for himself, it would find itself in the trash can the very next day. Was he an awesome super hero or not?

Syaoran sighed, the savior of a pair of abandoned glasses sounded awful. Though savior of the girl who got stood up sounded more gallant and had a certain ring to it!

Exiting the building, Syaoran ran towards the taxi stand only to discover in dismay, that it was a mathematical impossibility to get a cab at this time. So, Syaoran for the first time in many years, (and the first time unaccompanied) took the subway to his destination. Inside, people on the whole seemed to ignore him. Most of them could barely walk straight, they were probably intoxicated and missed the countdown. Others gave him a casual glance and returned to their own business.

Four stops later, Syaoran had arrived. He assumed he was thoroughly late, for he had no idea when Sakura and Eriol had decided to meet. He wondered briefly whether Sakura would still be there waiting. His heart clenched, despite his long journey here, he had hoped not.

He hated waiting. For some reason, waiting alone made him uneasy, he would check his watch every half a minute, anxious and anticipating… he hated it so much, his heart would instantly go out to the character in a drama if their date stood them up. It got to him every time.

This time was no different, when Syaoran envisioned Sakura sitting alone on a table for two by the window, he felt guilty.

Heck! Eriol was the one who forgot about their appointment, Syaoran told himself. Yet the dull twinge resting on his heart was still there. Entering the store, he approached Sakura's table from the side.

He cleared his throat to draw Sakura's attention onto him. Sakura turned to face him, surprise, then confusion registering on her face.

"I," Syaoran declared. "am not here on behalf of Eriol. But I just wanted to tell you that he's gone to someone's after party so he probably won't be coming."

Sakura's eyes were wide, she stared into his eyes directly, unabashed. Syaoran could almost hear her silent question. _Why are you here then?_

"I just wanted to tell you that." Syaoran finished.

"Oh," Sakura said, her eyes shifting back down to her cup of coffee in her hands. "if it's that, I know already. He texted me about half an hour ago."

Syaoran wanted to die on the spot. Unsure of how to proceed, he abruptly sat down on the chair adjacent to Sakura and grabbed the menu in hopes of finding something to do. He could feel Sakura's eyes drilling into his face again.

"Since I'm here," Syaoran pointlessly explained to Sakura. "I might as well order something." He looked down at the menu reading the choices. But very soon, he was peeking sideways into the window, through its reflection; he could see Sakura assessing his face. She ran her eyes up and down, resting on his lips…

Syaoran gasped as he saw a flash of light not unfamiliar to him outside of the window. He got out of his chair quickly, the metal scraped against the vinyl floor. Without a single word of explanation, he dashed out into the street, his mind spinning.

He was sure someone had just taken a photo of him and Sakura. This was bad, this was _really_ bad… if the photo got posted up online, what he had been wishing would happen to Eriol would happen to him.

Karma was a bitch.

* * *

**I really meant to update this on New Year's day but I kept postponing this chapter's release because I kept catching out mistakes. I spent ages combing through this chapter so hopefully it should be free of any missing/extra words or typos!**


	3. Masque

_Once upon a time, there was a pea-brain who had some pieces of silver. He was so paranoid his awful neighbor would steal them, he buried them in his backyard. But then he still felt uneasy. So, he wrote on a wall saying._

"_There is no silver buried underground here."_

_Then the freaky neighbor (who I presume was stalking him the whole night) went and stole the pieces of silver._

_The moral I think I was supposed to learn was you shouldn't be too paranoid or overly conscious about something because that something might not have had been a problem in the first place, but aggravating it would make it so._

_Oh and also, you might not be as clever as you think you are._

_But then again, even if he didn't bury the pieces on the ground, his creepy neighbor would have _trespassed_ into his house and steal the money from there._

_If it's going to be like that, I would gladly give up those pieces of silver. Hmph. I'm not about to invite strange men into my room while I'm not conscious._

_Ugh, did I just say I was the pea-brain?_

* * *

He whirled around, trying to locate the person who took the picture. To make things even worse, wild thoughts flew through Syaoran's head, what if someone _somehow_ managed to locate Sakura, and then _somehow_ discovered her talent and then _somehow_ got her to sign with a record company?

He would have nothing. There wouldn't even be jobs for him to model if his popularity was shot to pieces.

His career as a celebrity would be an extremely brief experience. He would probably be forced to become a manager for someone. Knowing his mother, if he had tainted their family reputation _and_ her baby (as in her company and not himself) then he would be in charge of Eriol...

Someone grabbed Syaoran's arm. He spun around, poised to attack or flee, depending on which was suitable.

"Calm down, it's me."

It was Sakura, Syaoran was about to apologize for suddenly running off when Sakura spoke again.

"Don't worry, whoever tried to take that photo would have only got a reflection of themselves taking a photo with flash." said Sakura, she smiled impishly. "So your secret 'date' is safe with me."

Syaoran gave a sigh of relief, he noticed that Sakura's cheeks were slightly flushed from running, trying to catch up to him. The corners of his lips turned upwards. Sakura caught his smile and grinned back at him, showing her pointy incisors. She placed his hand in hers.

"Come on, let's go explore!"

Syaoran looked down at their joined hands, affected by the sudden body contact. Stupid heart, why was it beating so fast? He glanced up at Sakura who seemed completely unaffected by their proximity.

"I know a pretty good place." Syaoran said evenly, trying to act every bit as composed as he wasn't. He led Sakura into the heart of the city, the night markets were still bustling despite it being well into the witching hour. Regardless of the time of the year, and in festivities even more so; the center of Tomoeda had a night market which was always swamped with people.

Sakura and Syaoran stuck close together, still holding each other's hands tightly. Neither of them wanted to be swept away by the never ceasing, incoming crowd of people. That was Syaoran's reason anyway.

In the most crowded area; the main street, was like a river during salmon's mating season. Bodies swarmed and slid past each other, their movement slow but they never stood still. To prevent Sakura from being crushed, Syaoran nudged Sakura behind him, and she grabbed his sides tightly. Sakura was glad, her nostrils, previously filled with the warm smell of armpits were now granted temporary relief. Curious, she took a sniff at Syaoran. Yes, he did smell a lot like sweat but she could detect the hint of the spicy bass notes in the cologne he wore.

The couple made slow progress through the night market. Bright flurries of colors, attracting—demanded their attention. Merchandise piled high on thin wooden tabletops; they let out soft wooden groans under the seduction of gravity. To make use of the space above the stalls, vendors hung samples of their product on the skeletons of their tents. The goods swung periodically, resonating with the heartbeat of the crowd's footstep.

Sakura tugged Syaoran's arm, she pulled him along, cutting perpendicular through the congestion. They stopped inside one of the tents that sold masks. Sakura plucked one of the masks from its perches and placed it alongside Syaoran's face.

"This is perfect for you."

Syaoran took the mask from Sakura's hands and scrutinized it. There was only one word to describe the mask: hideous.

The mask was in burning shade of vermillion, with an unnaturally long nose. The eyebrows were etched into a cruel frown, the lips were an upside-down smile. Syaoran was terrified, the mask seemed to be a reflection of his heart and intent.

He looked at Sakura, but her expression was unreadable. For a second, Syaoran's heart stopped, were his intentions revealed and she was giving him a warning?

"If you want to continue, you'll have to take this," said Sakura, "there will be trouble if people start to recognize you, right?"

Syaoran fingered the mask, a sense of foreboding washing over him. If he took the mask... ugh, he blamed his English teacher for all the literary techniques he identified in this scene. Oh, the symbolism! If he accepted and wore the mask, it would be a physical affirmation on what he planned to do. He would be kind to be cruel. To mask his true motives, he would hide behind tricks and ploys to achieve what he wanted.

Sakura snatched the mask from his hands and secured it tightly with a dead knot behind his head.

"Ouch!"

Syaoran tried to push the mask up to free his face, "My hair's stuck in it!" He turned his back on Sakura and pointed to the knot, "Help me!"

Sakura moved right next to Syaoran and tried to pry the knot loose with her fingers but her efforts were in vain. "Just man up, and pull it free! It's just a few strands of hair!"

"Just a few strands of hair?" Syaoran echoed feebly. "Do you know how much it hurts when you have to forcibly pull hair out?"

Sakura raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow.

"Never mind," huffed Syaoran. He braced himself and pulled the mask quickly off his head, taking a few strands of his hair with it. Syaoran winced and rubbed the back of his head before putting it back on again.

"Aw, there there." Sakura gave Syaoran a consoling pat on the head. She then grabbed an identical mask and held it up towards her face.

"Now it won't be embarrassing, since we both have them on." said Sakura, her voice sounded slightly muffled. "Help me put this on."

Syaoran took the mask out of her hands and leaned close to her, crouching so their eyes were level. He secured the mask onto her face, tying a ribbon knot (at least he was conscientious enough to tie a knot which she could undo easily later!) Sakura leant forward closer, until the elongated noses touched.

Without warning, a large group of people swarmed in.

"Ahaha, you think peanuts are tastier than cashew nuts? You've got to be kidding me!" a young man shoved his mate beside him with his elbow. Obviously, those who preferred cashew nuts were stronger than those who preferred peanuts because when the young man shoved his friend, he went careening into the nearest body.

Sakura.

The back of the boy's body slammed into hers like a freight train and she flew forward into the tent. Soft lips hit plastic and plastic hit plastic. Sakura and Syaoran steadied each other as the perpetrator turned back.

"Sorry!" the boy yelled, obviously not sorry for what he had done. After all, it wasn't _his _fault. It was his stupid friend who preferred cashew nuts!

Syaoran straightened himself out, trying to process what had just happened. No, it was nothing, and if it was anything, it was a huge cliché. And clichés, especially in writing were bad, and held absolutely no value.

Yup, what happened here had absolutely no value. It was so unimportant, it wasn't even worth remembering.

"Um!" the booth owner approached the pair, melting their rigid forms. Two masks turned to face him. "Are you going to buy those?"

Syaoran nodded, found his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans and purchased the masks.

"Come on, let's get out of here." He grabbed Sakura's hand and exited the stall, fighting the swarm of people. They cut through the torrent, fighting for their paths. People pushed and shoved; pressing Syaoran and Sakura close together, side-by-side.

Syaoran tried to take a look at Sakura, though it was impossible to guess what sort of expression she wore on her face with the mask on.

The two of them moved further away from the main street and were finally on a somewhere with less people. Though the amount of available space increased, the distance between the two did not.

They continued walking along the street until they hit a line of people. Syaoran looked across and saw that they were lining up for a ride on the Ferris Wheel.

"Want to take a ride on that?" asked Syaoran, pointing.

"You want to turn what was an accident into something intentional?" said Sakura, smirking.

Syaoran's eyes opened a fraction wider, he was such an idiot. If he looked closely, most of the people lining up were snuggly couples looking for fifteen minutes of privacy to snog. Embarassed, he kicked dirt around with his shoe. "I-I didn't mean it that way!"

"_Suuure_ you didn't." She tugged his hand. "Sorry, but I can't. I need to go. I'm supposed to be sleeping over at Chiharu's place today, if my brother calls and I'm not there…" she made a slicing action across her throat with her index finger. She gave Syaoran a quick hug. "Bye!"

Without waiting for his reply, Sakura dashed off and melted into the throng of people.

"What the heck just happened?" Syaoran said aloud, he wrinkled his brow. Great, now she was in his mind for more than one reason. He pulled the mask up and off his head, recounting his time with Sakura.

Things were going pretty good. He got what he wanted, now he had sufficient reason to keep his 'tabs on her' without looking like a creepy neighbor stalker. Right?

Syaoran wrung his hands round and round and round. Now that he was home, in his bed and settled in for the evening, nightcap and all, the 'date' he thought that had gone fairly well might not be as good as he originally perceived. He realized he didn't get her number and they didn't make any plans to see each other again. But she had given a hug before she left… that meant that Sakura liked him, right? She liked him enough to meet again, right?

Syaoran glared at the fluffy pink bunny slippers sitting by his bedside. "Damn it," he swore. "Girls are complicated."

The innocent bunnies stared back at him in question. Syaoran rolled out of his bed and threw the slippers to the other side of the room.

* * *

"Ouch!" Sakura winced as she tripped over Chiharu's slippers and landed on the girl's bed.

"Did my brother call?" Sakura asked the girl who was surfing the net on her laptop.

"Nope," the girl replied, placing the laptop on her bedside table. "But you _have_ to tell me how the date with Eriol went!"

Sakura shook her head, "Eriol sent me a text saying he couldn't make it." Sakura shrugged her shoulders.

"Then why did it take so long getting back?" Chiharu asked. Her eyes widened as she came to her conclusion. "Sakura, did you get picked up again? You know how much your brother freaks when you go off with random strangers."

Sakura stuck her tongue out. "Like he can say much! If anything, I caught these habits from him! Plus, he's not a random stranger. I've met him twice before. Even Touya knows who he is."

Chiharu squealed, "Oh my gosh, Sakura! Is this going to be serious? He's met your brother already?"

Sakura gave Chiharu a look, "You know me."

Chiharu sighed, slightly disappointed. "I don't know why your brother always thinks _you_ are the one in danger!"

Sakura shrugged. "No one is in danger. I mean, seriously. We just hang out, have fun."

Chiharu rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure they have fun crying their eyes out when you're done with them."

"It's not my fault they're so emotional." Sakura said as she stretched onto her stomach on Chiharu's bed.

"But you're the one who get them all worked up."

Sakura tugged Chiharu's hair playfully. "I can't believe you're talking crap in front of me like this."

"You know what they say, true friends stab you in the front." Chiharu shrugged before she grabbed her pillow and whacked Sakura hard over the head with it.

"Haha, very funny!"

The next morning, Sakura woke up to the sound of her cell phone buzzing. She groaned and cursed the sender to stub their toe.

"Argh." moaned Sakura as she stretched and grabbed her phone on the bedside table. Through bleary eyes, she read the message.

_From Eriol:_

_Vesperal Salutations! (Even though it's the morning, I just like saying that phrase, hehe.) ;)_

_Sorry for last night! I'll make it up real good to you next time I see you._

_You know you love me, xoxoxoxooxoxxo_

_Eriol_

Sakura giggled, she could totally imagine Eriol saying that in real life. That man had no shame! Sure, she felt rather unhappy he ditched their fan meeting so easily. But as he said, there was always next time. Plus, she had quite a lot of fun with Syaoran, the fact that he was extremely good looking was a definite plus! While she was choosy and strict on whom she considered her friends, Sakura was shallow when it came to accepting dates. As long as their personality or face was to her liking, she would say yes. Or if they could sing. She was _so_ easily charmed by a nice voice.

Which was lucky, because Syaoran seemed to have all which she looked for in a fun date. But there was something about him that was slightly off to Sakura. She bit her lower lip. There was something he was aiming for; Sakura dismissed the usual things males gave the chase. It was something Sakura couldn't put her finger on.

_I need to find out quickly._

* * *

**Just started university. I am exhausted, and this chapter really is my mental state right now. Unstructured, random and scattered everywhere. But I still chose to publish it because I think I like how it reflects what I'm like right now. Maybe one day I can look back and be like, "wow, I was such a noob."**

**You might've noticed the chapter length has been cut down drastically. I decided I like writing shorter chapters (for now). If you prefer longer ones, do tell. I'm not one to believe chapter length is directly proportional to the length you have to wait for the next release. Well, not for me anyway. I usually write the bulk of one chapter regardless of the length in one sitting.**

**Yeah, I know the characters are emotionally demented. I wonder what that says about me if they're the manifestations of my mind. xP**

**Ho hum. Not going to beg for reviews. I am not going to do that anymore. But I do want to know what you think of this chapter, if you think it's too random or scattered tell me so next time I'll wait until I'm more _stable _before I start writing/publishing again. You can PM me or something.  
**

**Cheers.**


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